Sturgess, I'm Dylan's cousin." He smiled.
"Ha, another asshole, then." Mia poked him in the stomach as well for good measure. Hard. Damn it, what is it with this island and me poking people? " Believe me, both of you, you've never ever seen me 'on the boil'. And believe me, you don't want to. What I want is for you to leave my sister alone. Understand A. L. O. N. E. She deserves better than you. I cannot see her humiliated by the likes of you again. You broke her, Marloth Ducaine, utterly and totally destroyed her. No sane, rational, and good person would ever behave like that to someone. Especially someone they'd professed to love. Ha. Love, you couldn't even spell it, let alone act on it." Mia needed to get away before she broke down and totally disgraced herself. She glared at him and then glanced back to where she had last seen Dylan. She'd forgotten he'd taken Meryl back to the house.
"Looking for someone?" Blaine enquired. His eyes were the same darkness as Dylan's. He'd come up close to her and Marloth. "Who were you with? He looked familiar."
"Oh puleese, you know fine well who it was. A fellow gigolo of yours. Note I'm classing you with these other shites until you're proved different, and do I think that's likely? Not a chance. So, Dylan, your fellow all-round-asshole, and non-good guy cousin."
"Dylan!" Blaine sniggered, and his grey eyes went from the color of slate to that of a dark storm-tossed sky. "No wonder he looked familiar. Who's up to what, eh? He's the big bad disapprove of everything around here person. So who's doing what?"
Mia glared at him. She had no idea what he was talking about.
"You're nuts. And if you mess with my sister you won't be. Because I'll snip them off with garden shears."
Blaine winced and covered his balls with his hands.
Marloth sniggered.
Blaine looked pained. "I was just the rescue party, Ask shi . . . er, Marloth here what went down."
Mia looked at him through narrowed eyes. She turned to Marloth.
"Hey, I just work here and do as I'm told." Marloth copied Blaine's hand action.
"Yeah, yeah, and if you think I believe you really didn't have anything to do with this crap and were only acting on orders, I'm the queen of Sheba."
As one, both men bowed and spoke, "Your Majesty."
They looked so ridiculous one hand cupping their cock and balls the other behind their back that Mia giggled before she shook her head and walked away.
"Shitebags." It was lame, but the best she could come up with without bursting into tears and having a full-blown hissy fit. She knew now why it wouldn't do any good.
Okay, I can cope with this crap, surely? After all, this is me on my way to my villa, not my fantasy. Let's face it, who would want assholes in their fantasy? Well. Grief, that is . . . damn and blast it, oh shut up. Her stomach churned and she still wanted to punch someone—anyone. Especially someone whose hands or cocks had a mind of their own.
Slamming the door brought great satisfaction, but the apologies to the various heads, bodies and whole people that appeared from other villas didn't. Who would have realized the sound echoed? Thank goodness inside sounds didn't. Well, she hoped to hell they didn't. Mia sniggered—if they did, she was the only one who'd gotten any satisfaction. Under any other circumstances her description to herself about independently operating body parts would have raised more than a small smile. Not this time, though. There was no way she wanted the rest of the group to know just how ridiculous and naive she—and for that matter, Meryl—had been.
Oh lord, the garden and the pool. What echoes from there? There was no answer in her mind to that tricky and potentially embarrassing question. She gave a mental shrug. So don't think about it, then. It's a dream island and I bet most of the dreams feature a rip-roaring, screaming orgasm.
She entered her room and turned the lock with great satisfaction. She swiveled round to go punch a cushion,
"Ha, another asshole, then." Mia poked him in the stomach as well for good measure. Hard. Damn it, what is it with this island and me poking people? " Believe me, both of you, you've never ever seen me 'on the boil'. And believe me, you don't want to. What I want is for you to leave my sister alone. Understand A. L. O. N. E. She deserves better than you. I cannot see her humiliated by the likes of you again. You broke her, Marloth Ducaine, utterly and totally destroyed her. No sane, rational, and good person would ever behave like that to someone. Especially someone they'd professed to love. Ha. Love, you couldn't even spell it, let alone act on it." Mia needed to get away before she broke down and totally disgraced herself. She glared at him and then glanced back to where she had last seen Dylan. She'd forgotten he'd taken Meryl back to the house.
"Looking for someone?" Blaine enquired. His eyes were the same darkness as Dylan's. He'd come up close to her and Marloth. "Who were you with? He looked familiar."
"Oh puleese, you know fine well who it was. A fellow gigolo of yours. Note I'm classing you with these other shites until you're proved different, and do I think that's likely? Not a chance. So, Dylan, your fellow all-round-asshole, and non-good guy cousin."
"Dylan!" Blaine sniggered, and his grey eyes went from the color of slate to that of a dark storm-tossed sky. "No wonder he looked familiar. Who's up to what, eh? He's the big bad disapprove of everything around here person. So who's doing what?"
Mia glared at him. She had no idea what he was talking about.
"You're nuts. And if you mess with my sister you won't be. Because I'll snip them off with garden shears."
Blaine winced and covered his balls with his hands.
Marloth sniggered.
Blaine looked pained. "I was just the rescue party, Ask shi . . . er, Marloth here what went down."
Mia looked at him through narrowed eyes. She turned to Marloth.
"Hey, I just work here and do as I'm told." Marloth copied Blaine's hand action.
"Yeah, yeah, and if you think I believe you really didn't have anything to do with this crap and were only acting on orders, I'm the queen of Sheba."
As one, both men bowed and spoke, "Your Majesty."
They looked so ridiculous one hand cupping their cock and balls the other behind their back that Mia giggled before she shook her head and walked away.
"Shitebags." It was lame, but the best she could come up with without bursting into tears and having a full-blown hissy fit. She knew now why it wouldn't do any good.
Okay, I can cope with this crap, surely? After all, this is me on my way to my villa, not my fantasy. Let's face it, who would want assholes in their fantasy? Well. Grief, that is . . . damn and blast it, oh shut up. Her stomach churned and she still wanted to punch someone—anyone. Especially someone whose hands or cocks had a mind of their own.
Slamming the door brought great satisfaction, but the apologies to the various heads, bodies and whole people that appeared from other villas didn't. Who would have realized the sound echoed? Thank goodness inside sounds didn't. Well, she hoped to hell they didn't. Mia sniggered—if they did, she was the only one who'd gotten any satisfaction. Under any other circumstances her description to herself about independently operating body parts would have raised more than a small smile. Not this time, though. There was no way she wanted the rest of the group to know just how ridiculous and naive she—and for that matter, Meryl—had been.
Oh lord, the garden and the pool. What echoes from there? There was no answer in her mind to that tricky and potentially embarrassing question. She gave a mental shrug. So don't think about it, then. It's a dream island and I bet most of the dreams feature a rip-roaring, screaming orgasm.
She entered her room and turned the lock with great satisfaction. She swiveled round to go punch a cushion,
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